Fred Limberg - First Murder

“I’m seeing someone,” he said.

“So am I,” she snapped back, turning, and striding off. Tony watched her walk away thinking he really didn’t need this right now. She turned at the doorway.

“Didn’t seem to matter before,” she said, and then she was gone.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tony really was sorry even though he hadn’t known the woman, Deanna. He was sure it sounded hollow and insincere, almost rote, as he faced the three young men sitting on the couch. Two of them looked sad. One looked devastated-red-eyed, disheveled, and dispirited.

“You didn’t even know her,” one of the boys snarled. That was Scotty, the son. The other two nodded.

“You’re right, but I’m still sorry.” They fell into an awkward silence. Tony had a job to do though, so he put his street cop face on and took the next step. “I need to talk to each of you, ask a few questions. I need to do it separately.”

That got them all bristling and changed their expressions.

“You can’t possibly think any of us had anything to do with it.” That was from the young man named David Hong. “No fucking way, dude.” Hong was big for an Asian, Tony thought. Then he realized Hong was probably Samoan. Regardless, he was definitely offensive guard sized.

“I don’t think anything at this point.”

“Missus F was the best, man. She was great.” That came from the slight red haired kid named Swenson, sitting on Scotty’s right, hanging onto his arm. Through his trendy black eyeglass frames Tony could see he had been crying too.

“That’s what I’m finding out. That’s why I said I was sorry.”

“So what’s this talking bullshit?” Hong, protecting his friend, Tony thought, not hiding anything.

“We’re trying to get a handle on where everyone who knew Scott’s mother was from Sunday night through Monday morning, anyone with any connection.” Tony took out his pad but didn’t open it.

“Why separately?” the Swenson kid asked. He had an innocent look to him. Tony guessed that in his whole life he’d never been involved with the police, probably never in trouble with the law, certainly not hip deep in a murder investigation.

Tony decided to lay a few cards out, try to get them on his side. “Because that’s what the instruction book says to do.” He tried a smile.

“Instruction book?” Hong’s accusing tone told Tony that the both the smile and the joke had failed.

“Look, I was trying to lighten things up a little. I just made detective. This is my first case. Help me out here.”

“Oh great! Just fucking great.” Scotty buried his head in his arms. “My mom’s dead and we’ve got you on the case. The newbie. A noob. Just fucking great.”

“Scott.”

“What.” The young man looked up with something close to a sneer on his face.

“I’m a new detective, not a new cop, all right? I’ve got almost seven years on the force and I spent the last year and a half undercover with the Narcotics Unit. Any of you guys read about the big meth bust, what, four months ago?” Hong and Swenson nodded. Scotty didn’t care. He didn’t seem to hear him.

“I was the inside guy. Look, we’ve got a whole team working this one, a great team. Rayford Bankston is a legend in the department and he’s my partner. We’re going to find out who killed your mother, Scott. I promise. But I need to talk to you guys…separately. And I need to talk to your other roommate. What was his name again?”

“Sean. Sean Stuckey.”

“Right. He around?” Three heads shook. “I’ll catch him later. Scott, let’s you and me go in the kitchen, talk for a bit, and then I’ll get a statement from your friends. Okay?”

“Detective de Luca?”

“Tony.”

“Tony, what’s it like being undercover?” Hong seemed to have calmed down. Scott paused on the way to the kitchen to listen.

“What’s the most frightened you’ve ever been? I mean piss-your-pants scared.”

David thought for a second. The time he’d bungee jumped? The car crash when he totaled hisbrother’s pickup? He shared both of those stories.

Tony realized they were all listening closely. “Now be that scared 24/7 for something like six months. That’s undercover. If the bad guys make you you’re dead. If you slip up, you’re dead. Hell, during the take-down, if one of the cops isn’t in on who you are, you’re dead. I don’t want to do it again.”

“But you got ’em, right? You busted them all? That’s what the paper said.”

“We got all of them involved in the meth operation. The Latin Kings is a pretty big gang though.”

“Holy shit.”

Tony knew he had their attention now, maybe even their respect. And holy shit was right, because there were still a lot of the LKs still out there and he had a lot riding on keeping his true identity secret. The trial was still a month away.

The interviews went well after that. Tony had a short list of specific questions he wanted to get into with each of them but he let it run conversationally. He knew he was amassing a lot of information and a lot of it would ultimately be useless. But Ray said they needed to get into these people’s lives to make any progress on this one, so he worked his specific questions in when he could.

Scotty had been studying Sunday night with a group until ten or after, then came back to the house. Tony wrote down the names of the people in the study group and numbers from Scotty’s cell phone. They played some video games, him and Hong and Swenson, until about midnight. On Monday he had taken an Econ test at ten. He remembered huddling with some of the study group early over coffee before the test. He remembered calling his mom from the bus stop. Scotty cried when he added that he left a message, guessing she had already left for the day and realized she’d been dead.

The phone rang. Scotty’s father asked him to come to the hotel he was staying at. Tony shook his hand when he left, thanked him for the help, and moved on to Mr. Swenson.

Swenson had been at the house all night Sunday, alone until about 11:00. When Tony frowned he fetched his computer and showed the detective the time stamps on the papers he had been working on. Swenson was in the Carlson School of Business. A quick glance at the material told Tony the kid was bright, literate, and knew a hell of a lot more about investments and the stock market than he ever would. De Luca noted the professor’s names for Swenson’s early Monday classes so he could check attendance.

Hong had been working, slinging pizza until 10:00, then back to the house for some Halo gaming with a hot pie. He didn’t have any early classes on Monday and had been at the house alone until close to noon. Tony frowned again and asked him if he remembered talking to anyone Monday morning, if he’d gone for coffee or anything where someone could back him up. Hong drew a blank. He’d slept in, showered, and poked around on ‘Facebook’ for about an hour. Did it leave a time stamp? Would have been around 10:30 or 11:00. No idea.

Then David remembered the fight. A girl who lived in the house next door, Erin was her name-a thin, blonde, ultra-hot girl with a tongue stud. She’d had a shouting match with her boyfriend. Hong smiled, told Tony it had woken him up it was so loud, but that was okay because maybe now she’d go out with him. Swenson knocked on the door asking if they were about done or if he could come in to get something to eat. Tony told him to come on in. He had what he needed. If everything checked out all the roommates had alibis…except for the Stuckey kid.

“Tell me about Scott’s mom, what did you call her?”

“Missus F. She was one cool lady.”